


I Want More From You

by Jellified_Teeth



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Confusion, Drama, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Sexual Confusion, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellified_Teeth/pseuds/Jellified_Teeth
Summary: Raised in a traditional household with religion being the backbone of her upbringing, Ariette Baignevoix has been brought up by her ex marine father to be able to use firearms and weaponry with skillful accuracy.Her overbearing, narrow minded father and neurotic mother have conformed to the stereotypes of the raising of cold blooded and heartless psychopaths. Ariette couldn't be further from that.Already on a path of self questioning and doubt, Ariette finds herself captivated by a beautiful young woman, and and embarks on a journey of unknown and new desires.





	1. Unwelcome.

My boots are tapping together. I flex my ankles in and out repeatedly, the satisfaction it brings when the soles of my black Doc Martens bounce off one another.

The uneasy feeling that buries itself in my gut is gnawing and uncomfortable.

I have been asked out on a date before. That's nothing new. As I search my mind for context, I drift to last week. The barista who served me had thought it was a good idea to write a pick up line on the napkin that came with my coffee. Smirking at me from behind the counter, his eyebrows raised arrogantly. That in itself is a turn off to me.

I have seen this new girl at my regular coffee haunt. She seems more his type; tall, pale, attention stealing. Much like him.

Why am I agitated?

My father has taught me to read people and situations accurately, so why doesn't this feel ordinary?

My boots keep tapping.


	2. You Are Indifferent To Me

There. At the table in the small coffee shop I go to in the early blossoms of the morning.

Her brooding black eyes, enticing yellow diamonds in the centre of them, were uncomforted by the rain splattering the window to her right, her gaze following the thin water trail a raindrop had left, head resting on her palm.

The tall, pale girl.

Her long, wavy hair that came down to her midriff was darker than the colour black, framing her curvy yet athletic figure poised on the wooden stool boredly.

She was exceptional to say the least.

The slow and gentle accompaniment of the Bossa nova carrying through the air made her somewhat magical to look at.

But maybe that's because I'm French. I think to myself as I sit at the table opposite the woman. I had a perfect view of her entirety, and I begin to regret my seating position.

I ignore the urge to stare as I open my notebook, scribbling down something. Anything to make it look like I was doing something.

My boots tap together.

I risk a glance, and immediately feel contrition. She is looking at me. She has inexplicable eyes and an enamouring smile. She doesn't seem bored anymore.

I quickly return my attention to my notebook, my eyes tracing the lines on the page as they search for a distraction.

My boots continue tapping.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! I really enjoyed writing this, and It's nice to see people liking my work!
> 
> Love ya'll.


End file.
